


The Long Way Home

by Lise



Series: Remember This Cold [28]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftermath, Conversations, Established Relationship, Feelings, Homecoming, Identity Issues, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Loki Feels, M/M, Self-Hatred, a little bit of angst and a lot of introspection, back to the conversations and feelings model of fanfiction, there is also a cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 17:16:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3389804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Returning from Asgard leaves several problems behind them, but the visit has also created a whole bunch of new ones. In the aftermath, Loki tries to sort through what the changes mean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Long Way Home

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this installment, which I knew I needed to write. Probably I should just learn to integrate these kind of aftermath things into the longer installments themselves, but...it feels different, and like it needed to be its own fic. (And it did end up being an extra 10,000 words, which, whoops.) I don't know how much there is to say about this one, except to note that while I'm kind of itching to start my next planned installment (which I'm kind of cackling about) I think I might try to give Steve and Loki a bit of a chance to recover. [portraitoftheoddity](http://portraitoftheoddity.tumblr.com) gave me the idea of having them go on a vacation, so maybe I'll do that. 
> 
> Also there's the thirty day porn challenge I made for myself (a second one, now with more kink) which I plan to post on my tumblr (and over here when I finish), and probably various little bits and pieces of things. And of course my other fifty-two works in progress. (Not an exaggerated number, by the way! I don't know how or why I've done this to myself.)
> 
> As always, you can find me at [my tumblr](http://veliseraptor.tumblr.com) with questions and/or ego stroking. Until next time. As always, this installment is dedicated with love to my [personal Steve](http://ameliarating.tumblr.com) who is also my beta. Enjoy!

Loki’s suite did not feel like home.

He had emptied it before leaving, as much as he dared, keeping his actions subtle. He had feared that Steve might notice, and get upset again at what he seemed to think was Loki’s determined fatalism but what Loki saw as realistic preparation. He had gone to Asgard expecting not to come back. Even if it was not death, there were cells even deeper than the one that he had occupied before, more securely guarded. They would bury him alive. (At the thought, Loki had almost hoped for execution, pacing back and forth in the sleepless nights with the feeling of walls closing in on every side, throat closing until he thought he would choke.)

But against all probability, they had let him go, and he stood once more in the doorway of what was now his only home, and it felt sterile and barren, the memory of his own room with its myriad comforts (still preserved, against all expectations) fresh in his memory. Something deep in his chest ached. Loki pushed it down; _you are alive, be grateful. Is that not what you said to Thor?_

“Loki?” Steve, hovering behind him. He had not gone far since their return, as though he feared to stray, and in truth Loki was grateful, though he would never have said as much. “Are you…”

“Merely taking a moment,” Loki said, but he stepped inside. “It feels as though I have been absent longer than I have.”

Steve laughed, though he sounded a little uncertain. He was worrying, Loki could tell, and he did not know how to ease that worry. “I know what you mean,” he said, stepping up beside Loki, his hand brushing his shoulder. “I almost can’t believe it’s only been a week.” Loki could feel Steve examining him and paced over to the windows to keep him from looking too closely. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yes,” Loki said easily. “Of course. All is well now, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said Steve, after a moment, though he did not sound certain. “I suppose it is. I’ll go see how Bruce did with Váli, all right? I’ll be right back.” Loki turned, summoning a smile.

“I’ll be here,” he said. Steve examined him for a long moment, then approached almost gingerly, leaning in to kiss his lips softly, caressing the line of his jaw.

“I love you,” he said, soft and fond, and as always Loki’s heard did a peculiar little jerk in his chest.

“And I you,” he said, throat a little tight. Steve kissed him again and then walked smartly out the door. Loki swayed and stared after him, feeling suddenly untethered. He sat down in one of the chairs and stretched out his legs, but he was too restless to hold still. He was exhausted but too tense to sleep. Loki thought of Odin’s voice, intoning the sentence. It was clever of him. Wise, politically. As he had told Thor, it was the only thing to be done. Loki would always be a liability, a weakness, to Odin, to Thor, and Asgard did not tolerate weakness.

_He did not say you were no longer his son,_ Frigga had said, but that comfort had felt thin and hollow then and only more so now. _You are alive,_ he reminded himself again, ruthlessly. _And is this not what you wanted, all along? To be free of Asgard, of Thor, of Odin?_

_We’re home,_ Steve had said, and Loki tried to feel it. He had grown comfortable here, after all. The suite was not uncomfortable or unspacious, and if it was not so fine or so perfectly tailored to his tastes as his…former quarters, that was only because he had not tried. Now that he was to stay here, at least for the foreseeable future, he need not pretend to be satisfied with Stark’s plebeian tastes in décor. He could find furniture that would be suited, no doubt, more bookshelves, proper carpets…

Loki’s thoughts trailed off. _No,_ he thought. _This will never be Asgard. There is no point in trying to make it so. Besides, are you not trying to move forward, not back?_

But forward to _where?_ Loki did not even know what that might mean.

A soft knock on the door jolted him out of his sullen thoughts and he stood quickly. Steve slipped inside, his arms full of cat; Loki could hear him purring loudly. He did not look any worse for wear, though Loki had had his misgivings about entrusting a small, fragile animal to Banner’s care. Loki summoned a smile when Steve looked at him.

“Bruce said he did all right,” Steve said, scratching absently behind Váli’s ears. “Stayed out of sight mostly, until the last couple days when he started coming out now and then.” Loki nodded mutely, though he regretted his lack of response when a slight frown line appeared between Steve’s eyebrows. “Would you like to hold him?” He asked.

“If he will permit me,” Loki said, only half jesting. He took the purring cat carefully from Steve’s arms, trying not to wince when Vali abruptly stopped purring, claws pricking Loki’s arm through his sleeve. They retracted, though, and to Loki’s surprise Váli settled, the loud purring resuming.

Loki’s eyes stung and he abruptly felt unsteady all over again. His chest ached and he felt briefly as though he might break open, though he didn’t know what would come spilling out. Steve was watching him with obvious concern and Loki fought the urge to sit down and bury his face in Váli’s fur, a gesture he knew the cat would not appreciate. If he was not careful, he would start weeping again, and he had done far too much of that of late.

“Loki,” Steve said, his voice gentle in a way that brought Loki’s hackles up even as it chipped away at the brittle coating that was holding him together. “If you want to talk…”

“No,” Loki said, undoubtedly too loudly and too quickly. He swallowed and moderated his voice. “I do not need…thank you. But there is nothing more to say.”

“Is there?” Steve asked, but then seemed to reconsider the question and shook his head. “All right. But if you change your mind…I don’t even have to say anything. I can just listen.”

Sometimes Steve’s kindness made Loki want to scream, made anger surge up in his chest, uncontrollable rage that he made himself swallow down because it wasn’t just, wasn’t _fair._ He could not hold against Steve what he was, even when Loki felt like he might choke on it.

He made himself smile. “I know. I am more than passing familiar with your patience.” Loki meant it as half a joke, but Steve did not look very amused. Váli had begun kneading at Loki’s arm, apparently quite contented. Loki wished he could feel the same. “Steve…I know the offer is sincere. I will consider it.” The words sounded awkward to him, almost curt, but it appeared to ease his lover’s mind.

“All right.” Steve leaned in and gave Loki a light kiss, his lips soft and warm. “I won’t push.” _For now,_ Loki heard, and tried not to tense up. He released Váli to the ground and moved closer to Steve, letting his hands rest on his waist for a moment before sliding down to his hips.

“Are you planning to stay?” He asked, allowing just a bit of suggestion to slide into his voice. Steve’s smile was small and soft, the line of worry between his brows not vanishing.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, like a promise, and Loki had that feeling again like he was drowning. He tried to push it away, bowing his head forward to rest his forehead against Steve’s shoulder and taking a deep breath in.

_It will be fine,_ he told himself, a kind of urgency in the thought. _All will be well._

* * *

They rechristened the bed with a round of sex that Loki wished had been a little more rough, though the way Steve buried his face in Loki’s neck and moaned as he came went a long way toward making Loki feel more at home, as did the heat of his body draped over Loki’s as they both drifted off, naked thigh wedged between Loki’s legs.

He jolted awake in the middle of the night out of dreams of suffocating, back in the cell on Asgard and desperately trying to suck in air as he _felt_ his throat close, but this time he was alone, trying to scream for help and unable to so much as squeak.

Loki managed not to jerk upright, but it took several minutes to stop gulping in great heaving breaths. Steve did not wake, lying tangled in the sheets and breathing slow and evenly, plainly exhausted. Loki felt a pang of guilt. He knew Steve had been…distressed, frustrated with what he felt was his inability to help. _And you can’t even be properly grateful. Thinking about everything you’ve lost. Selfish fool._

He wanted to relax, to try to go back to sleep, but his body was humming, the adrenaline of his nightmare still pumping through him.

Steve shifted, rolling to his back. “You all right?” He asked, voice sleepy, and Loki cursed himself.

“Go back to sleep,” he said, trying to make his voice calm. “I am fine.”

“Hmm. Come here.” Steve’s voice still sounded sleepy, at least, holding out his arms. Loki hesitated only a moment before shifting toward him, and Steve moved surprisingly fast, wrapping his arms around Loki and pulling him into a tight embrace, kissing Loki’s neck and then his lips, the whole length of his body pressed close to Loki’s. “S’good to share a bed with you again,” he said, voice almost a sigh.

Loki felt warmed. “Certainly more comfortable than my recent quarters,” he murmured, though a moment after it was said he regretted it. Steve needed no reminders of recent events.

Steve did not seem troubled, though. He mumbled something and then settled back with a sigh, arms loosening only a fraction.

On what Loki had half expected was to be the last night of his life, he had asked for paper and pen and written three letters: one for Thor, one for Frigga, and one for Steve. In the end, he’d destroyed all of them before the trial. _I do not say it enough,_ the one to Steve had said, near the end. _But I-_

“I love you,” Loki said, very lowly. Steve’s breathing had evened out again, and when he did not react part of Loki wanted to say it again, but he did not. Still half afraid that if he said it too loudly, the Norns might take this from him as well.

Loki did not think he would be able to survive that. Especially not now, when he was Loki of No Realm, exiled and cast out and erased from Asgard like the error he was. Now that there was truly nothing he could call his own, not even these rooms in which he lived.

He closed his eyes and made himself say it again anyway. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Steve mumbled, sounding barely awake, and Loki’s heart stuttered as always. He closed his eyes and breathed in the faint sweat smell on Steve’s skin.

It seemed to take a long time before he slept again, but perhaps it was just the stickiness of the hours in the dark, stretching like taffy as he lay there with his mind and heart too full to rest.

* * *

Two days after their return Steve had to appear at some event or another; just because SHIELD was gone did not mean the demands on his time were. Almost immediately after his departure, Thor appeared, knocking on the door with a look on his face like a dog half expecting to be sent to the kennel.

Loki did not invite him in, exactly, but he did leave the door open and did not explicitly reject him. Thor took it as the invitation it more or less was and stepped inside.

It was, Loki realized, probably only the third or fourth time he’d been in Loki’s rooms here.

“Should I suspect that you’ve been sent to watch me in Steve’s absence,” Loki asked coolly, “or is that uncharitable of me?”

“It is uncharitable of you,” Thor said at once. “I am simply here to visit.” Loki felt a twinge of regret for his sharp tongue and glanced aside. “Though I did think that you might desire some company while he was away,” Thor added. Loki gave him a sidelong glance and a crooked smile.

“Hm. Very well, then. Would you care for any refreshment?”

“No, thank you.” Thor crouched down to extend a hand toward Váli, who was strolling across the floor with his tail held aloft. The cat sniffed his fingers and sneezed, then pushed his head under Thor’s hand. Loki felt a peculiar pang and held back the urge to snatch his cat away. “I had a hearty breakfast.”

“I see.” Loki turned and paced away, an itch back under his skin that made him feel brittle, fragile. “Missing Asgard’s meals already?”

He heard Thor stand and move toward him. “Not so very much. The feasts on Asgard have seemed poorer to me of late.” Loki could almost hear the frown in his voice and looked down at his hands, twisting absently together. “They have lacked the most important of my companions.”

Loki hunched his shoulders. “Thor…”

Thor’s hand rested on his shoulder but when Loki flinched he pulled it quickly away. He cleared his throat. “I am sorry. I did not mean to discomfit you.”

Loki dug his thumbnail into the center of his palm and almost wished that Thor had left his hand there. “You seem to manage it without much effort.” He almost heard Thor wince and did not quite regret it.

“Have I angered you somehow?” Thor’s question sounded honest. Loki closed his eyes for a moment before he turned to look Thor in the face.

“No,” he said honestly. “You have not. I am merely…” He searched for the appropriate words, and settled on, “unquiet.” Thor’s expression was so sympathetic it made Loki feel vaguely nauseous.

“That is not so surprising. Your last few weeks have been very eventful.” Loki heard a quiet _mew_ and glanced down to see Váli winding around Thor’s ankles. “I would be startled if you were not shaken by them.”

It felt strange, this, Loki thought. Unreal, the way Thor was stepping gingerly and with so much care. He’d fought it for so long, letting Thor back into his life as he’d rebuilt it, piece by piece, trying to fashion something from the nothing he’d had when he’d let go of Gungnir and expected to die. It was not that he did not remember why he’d done so, why he’d been so determined to keep Thor at arm’s length; it was more that now it seemed less important. And with everything else gone-

“Shaken,” Loki said, and laughed almost soundlessly. “That is one way of putting it.” He paced over to the chairs and sat down, curling his feet under himself, though the moment he did so he wished he had some tea to hold cupped between his hands. Thor paused for a moment and then followed him.

“How would you put it?” His brother – it was still strange to think that, but Loki thought it nonetheless, _my brother_ , almost stubbornly – sounded cautious. Loki pursed his lips and looked towards the windows.

“I do not know.”

He could feel Thor considering him. “Is this…something you wish to discuss?”

Loki turned and stared at him. _Who are you and what have you done with my brother,_ he half wanted to say, but knew it would only be hurtful. He could not help but think, though, _how much you have changed, that now you would_ ask _of me my_ permission _before simply barging ahead._ “I do not know that either,” he said finally, and when Thor frowned added, “or rather, I do not see what there is to discuss.”

“You have not…” Thor paused, again clearly choosing his words carefully. “I know how it can be, to find oneself suddenly without a home. When I was exiled…even in the presence of others I felt lonely, terrified. And…lost.”

Loki’s chest felt oddly hollow. He remembered looking down at Thor and watching him scream at the sky when his hammer refused him. He remembered speaking to Thor, knowing the mortals would think him mad, saying _this is goodbye_ and enjoying the way Thor’s face crumpled. “This is not the first time I have been an exile, Thor,” he said, instead of the apology that rose to the back of his tongue.

“Perhaps not,” Thor persisted. Váli meowed loudly and Thor bent down what looked like without thinking to pick him up; the cat settled in his arms without a fuss, accepting Thor’s absent petting. “Just the same – I would listen, if you wished to speak of your feelings.”

Something sour, bitter, and ugly rose up choking in Loki’s chest. “My _feelings,_ ” Loki said, his expression twisting. “Ah, yes. Would you like me to weep upon your shoulder, Thor, in my grief? Asgard is well rid of me, perhaps, but _I_ am well rid of Asgard. It has not been my home since I fell. All the All-Father has done is to make clear to everyone else what I already knew.”

Thor looked at him, expression calm and sad. Loki briefly wanted to throw something at him, and then wanted to claw at his own skin, tear his flesh open and let it bleed. “Loki,” Thor said, and then stopped, only to start again. “Asgard is not well rid of you. You will be missed, I know.”

Loki felt some part of his defenses crumble and it terrified him. “You do not know that,” he snapped.

“If you do not believe me, did not Sif say as much?” Loki squeezed his eyes closed for a moment and turned sharply on his heel, staring out at the cityscape of New York.

“What do you wish me to say, Thor?” He asked. Loki meant it to sound annoyed, but it came out of his mouth plaintive. “Do you wish me to say that I will _miss_ Asgard, that it was my home for centuries and in the space of a few moments it is taken from me – it and everything else I knew? It is as though-” He broke off, his throat closing. His eyes burned and Loki closed them.

( _I remember how it felt, looking at my hand as it changed and knowing that nothing I had thought was mine was true. My skin, my patronymic, my life – all of it a lie, and now the last of that illusion is torn from me and it is like that moment again._ )

“Is it better to be angry?” Thor asked. He did not sound as though he was judging, but rather genuinely curious.

“Yes,” Loki ground out, but he was not certain. There was nowhere for his anger to _go._ It was not Thor’s fault, and he could not truly blame Odin (hate him, but not blame him). There was only one other place for the hate to go. He dug his nails into the underside of his wrist, letting the small pain ground him. “No. I do not know.”

Thor’s hand wrapped around his wrist, gentle and warm. “Loki,” he said, and Loki opened his eyes and realized that there was blood blooming around his nails where they’d broken skin. He released himself and watched the small crescent punctures heal.

“Thor,” he said, and stopped. “When you were lost,” he began again, “when you were in exile…how did you go on? Knowing that your home might be lost to you forever, all you knew lost…”

Thor did not release his wrist. “I suppose I…found something else. A new path, though I was only just beginning to tread it.” There was something plaintive in Thor’s gaze. “I do not doubt you can do the same, brother. Have you not ever been the more adaptable of us two? And you are not alone. Steve will help you. And – I would as well, if you would let me.”

Loki felt his shoulders slump. “It seems I no longer have the will to stop you,” he said, and it was half wry and half truth. Thor released his wrist but only to clasp his neck and jostle him gently, so Loki opened his eyes and raised his gaze to Thor’s clear, blue stare.

“You are strong, Loki,” Thor said, with such force of _conviction_ that Loki almost believed it. “I know you will find your way, and your place.”

_My place,_ Loki thought. _What if there is no such place?_ “Ah, Thor,” he said, more a sigh than anything else. “And Asgard shall simply have to learn to live with her feast halls the poorer, no?” Loki arranged his face into a smile. Thor’s hand squeezed on the back of his neck and Loki felt himself lean into its familiar warmth. _All I have left of home._

“I am fortunate,” Thor said, “in that I may still speak with you. Asgard is foolish if she does not recognize her loss.”

Loki coughed a laugh. “Or perhaps you are the fool.”

“No,” Thor said, his voice warm and his gaze level and certain. “I know I am not.”

* * *

Loki waited almost a week to unpack his things. He was not certain he could have said why. When he did, it was alone, pulling the small bag of items out of the extra-dimensional holding space in which he kept it. There was not much to unpack – a few books, his half-finished manuscript on magical theory, some small decorative items. He pulled them all out one at a time and set them down on the carpet of the living room in a semi-circle. It was a pathetically small collection, looking at it in sum. He had tried to avoid taking things with too many memories attached.

He picked up one of the books – a history of the Nine Realms, beautifully illustrated. A name-day gift, he remembered, turning it over in his hands. From Odin. He felt a sick twist in his stomach and wondered why he had picked this. He hadn’t remembered who it was from when he’d pulled it from his shelf. Now he was half tempted to set it on fire and burn it to ash.

Loki made himself set it down instead. There was no use destroying a perfectly serviceable book. Still, now that he’d thought of Odin his stomach was churning and he felt almost dizzy, unsteady.

He had not expected anything else from the old man, but some childish part of him had still hoped for a single word, a single gesture, something of acknowledgment. He knew why Odin had not, _could_ not, but it did not quite rid him of the small part of him that withered at the silence.

Sitting back on his heels, Loki surveyed the last remnants of his Aesir life and felt the urge to weep.

“Loki?” The soft voice startled him, and Loki jerked, scrambling to his feet. Steve was standing in the doorway, looking apologetic. “I knocked, but you didn’t answer.”

“My apologies,” Loki said hastily. “I did not hear you.” Steve’s gaze flicked from him to the small collection of objects on the floor, and something odd passed through his expression.

“Is that the stuff you brought from Asgard?” He asked, after a moment.

“Mm. Such as it is.” Loki felt a strong urge to send all of it away, suddenly ashamed.

“You didn’t take very much,” Steve said. “If you wanted me to carry something, you could’ve asked.”

“I did not,” Loki said, perhaps a little too harshly because he saw the hurt on Steve’s face. He moderated his tone and added, “it seemed better to make as clean a break as possible.”

Steve nodded, but Loki could see a mixture of emotions on his face, pity and sadness and sympathy. The churning in his stomach only intensified. “Can I look?” He asked, instead of speaking any of it, and Loki was pathetically grateful.

“Be my guest,” he said. Steve crossed the room and knelt down on the carpet. He picked up the small, crudely carven charm that had been one of Loki’s first workings, then the pewter carving of a serpent that Loki had purchased on Alfheim. Setting that down, he picked up the history and opened it, paging through until he found an illustration of Asgard and paused.

“This is beautiful,” Steve said. “I wish I could read it.”

“I might be able to teach you the runes,” Loki said. The more he looked at the book, the more he wondered what had possessed him to bring it. It was beautiful, and certainly interesting, but… “They are not so difficult, though it will take practice.”

Steve’s startled expression made Loki want to smile, however faintly. “You’re serious?” He said, and then smiled. “I’d love to learn, if you were willing to teach me.”

Loki looked down at his hands. “I would be glad to teach you,” he said, trying to summon some cheer into his voice, but he knew it was not good enough. He almost felt Steve’s smile fade.

“What’s wrong?”

Loki considered trying to lie. _Nothing,_ he might have said, or something vague and nonspecific that he would not have to explain. Perhaps Steve would accept if he said he simply did not want to talk about it. “That book,” he said, after a moment. “It is a history of the Nine Realms. I…had forgotten until just now that it was a gift. From Odin.” He made himself laugh, little more than a soft huff of air. “Now I almost wish I had not brought it with me.”

Steve was quiet for a long moment, and Loki did not look to see what the expression was on his face. “Oh,” he said, finally, and sighed. “Loki…”

“I hate him,” Loki said, the words spilling out of him before he could keep them back. “I _hate_ him, the old man with his righteousness and his arrogance and his – _hypocrisy._ He let me believe – I should have known what I was worth to him. I have never been anything to him but a tool and a pawn.”

He heard Steve move, standing up. He took Loki’s hands, pulling them out of the fists they’d clenched into. But he didn’t interrupt, didn’t tell Loki that he was wrong and just needed to see things from Odin’s side. Didn’t tell him that Odin loved him and had only meant the best. Loki felt himself shudder, tension releasing that he hadn’t known he was holding.

“And yet some part of me,” he said, very quietly as though he could keep Steve from hearing. “Some part of me…cannot help but wonder if he did care for me. At some point. And when he…stopped.” The churning in his stomach had risen up into his chest, turning into an ache. “And why.”

Steve pulled him into a hug, his hands warm on Loki’s back, and Loki heard him sigh. “Oh, Loki,” he said softly. “I don’t think…nobody needs to…I’m sorry. I don’t think…I can’t pretend to understand, but even if he did stop loving you…it’s not your fault.”

“Isn’t it?” Loki let his head drop forward. “I must have done something. After all, Thor-”

“No,” Steve said firmly. “Loki…don’t start down that road. All right? There’s never going to be an answer and it’s just going to hurt you. All right? He’s not a part of your life anymore – and as far as I’m concerned, good riddance.” There was an unexpected vehemence to Steve’s voice that took Loki by surprise, jarring him out of his self-pity.

“You spoke with him,” Loki remembered belatedly. “When Sif came…I never asked how that went.”

“It went,” Steve said, and huffed a weak little laugh. “I didn’t like him much. Maybe I’m biased. I might’ve…said some harsh things.”

Loki wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or groan. He could just picture Steve telling the All-Father off, head up and chin sticking out, that stubborn cast to his face. He doubted Odin would find it as charming as Loki did. “Apparently not too harsh. He did not have you cast back to Midgard.”

“Only because he thought I might be able to convince Thor to stay on Asgard.” There was something bitter in Steve’s voice, and the words sent a shock through Loki, though he was not exactly surprised. Odin would see Thor’s time here as a waste of time at best. “I told him Thor could make his own choices. And then I asked about-” He broke off, and Loki heard him huff another sigh. “Maybe I’m just not great with authority figures.”

Loki was surprised by the force of the warmth that welled up in him, even stronger than the brief defensive urge on the All-Father’s behalf. He had not…he could not remember anyone ever taking his side over Odin’s before. “I would not necessarily say that is a negative trait.”

“You wouldn’t,” Steve said, but fondly. He pulled back just enough to meet Loki’s eyes. “About the book…I don’t think it’s so strange that you’d hold onto something familiar. Especially…especially now. It doesn’t need to be about him, does it? It can be about you.”

_Is it?_ Loki almost wanted to ask. _Or am I still seeking his approval like the pathetic child he has always made me?_ “It is just a book,” he made himself say. Steve’s relief was obvious and Loki felt a twinge of guilt. His lover was worried, that was plain, and Loki had done a poor job of soothing him since their return.

_I am well,_ he considered saying. _Do not look at me like I am broken. I am not._ It would have felt like a lie, though. He was too aware of the jagged edges grinding within him, some of them new. Sometimes he wondered if he would ever graft all the pieces together again.

Apparently he had been quiet for too long, because Steve gave him a little nudge, calling him back. “Loki?” He said, sounding worried again. “Are you all right?”

“I will be,” Loki said, summoning a smile. That, at least, was probably honest.

* * *

“It looks like you got away clean,” Barnes said when Loki sat down across from him. “I’m not too surprised. Get the impression you’re a hard one to pin down.”

Loki blinked, but only once. “The Captain told you.”

Barnes shrugged. “He may have mentioned you were in some trouble.” Loki could feel the man examining him, looking him up and down. Worry, he thought, though that seemed strange and he discarded the idea. “Good to see you made it through.”

Loki inclined his chin. “As you inferred,” he said, a touch dryly. “I am a hard one to pin down.”

Steve’s friend was a far cry from the gaunt, half-broken man he’d been when Loki had first seen him here. He had filled out to a healthy weight, and his gaze no longer skittered away from attempts to meet his eyes. It was an…interesting change. Loki was a little startled by it, but supposed he shouldn’t be: humanity was resilient, after all. It was one of their qualities he envied.

Barnes shifted a little nervously. “Uh huh. So…” He trailed off. There was a question he wanted to ask, Loki could see it, but he was hesitating to speak it. Loki placed his hands in his lap and half closed his eyes.

“Are you trying to ask what happened?” Barnes nodded his head in a brief jerk. “What did Steve tell you already?”

“Not much. That the place you’re from was after you for some stuff you did.” Barnes shrugged. “I didn’t listen that closely to the specifics. Doesn’t matter that much, right?”

“Perhaps not.” Loki glanced down at his hands, fingers tangling together. “They are no longer going to bother with me. That is the primary result of the whole…circus.”

Barnes leaned forward, focus intensifying. “What about the secondary result?”

“Would that not fall into the category of ‘specifics’?”

“Maybe, but the kind of specifics I’d be interested in.” Sometimes Loki could hear something in Barnes’ voice and wondered if it was Steve’s old friend, the one who had died. He wondered how it felt to Steve when he heard it. Loki exhaled through his nose, suddenly feeling reluctant.

Barnes, he realized, would be the first person he was telling who had not been present. Perhaps that was what troubled him: repeating it might make it…more real.

(As though, Loki thought with not a small touch of bitterness, it were not already real.)

“I am banished,” he said flatly. “For eternity. My name is stricken from the record and from the royal line. It is as near as they could make it to pretending I do not exist.” By the time he finished speaking, his voice was harsh. It seemed to grate on his throat.

“Oh,” said Barnes. He didn’t sound sympathetic, exactly. It itched between Loki’s shoulder blades.

“What,” he said, a little snappishly. “Have you something to say?”

“No,” Barnes said, smoothly neutral. “Definitely not.” Loki pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes, but Barnes just shrugged. “I’m not saying anything.”

Loki looked down at his hands again, feeling uncharitable and foolish for snapping. He was tempted merely to stand up and leave, but that seemed churlish as well. He grimaced at nothing in particular. “No doubt Steve will be inclined to tell you more.”

“Wasn’t actually planning on asking him.” Barnes was watching him in that way he did sometimes, head cocked slightly to the side. Loki felt a surge of anger and resentment at his calm, but it ebbed away quickly.

“You will forgive me for asking directly what you are driving at,” he said, trying to keep his voice toneless. “I am a bit…tired.”

“I’m not really driving at anything.” Barnes leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Would you’ve wanted to stay there? If you could’ve?”

_No,_ was Loki’s instinctive answer, and it was the truth, it _was._ Even if he did not hate Asgard and all it stood for, there was Steve. There was no place for him on Asgard and he had known that since his first fall. “It was never an option.”

“Doesn’t really make it much better, I guess.” _There_ was the sympathy, and it made Loki’s hackles rise but he could not…it seemed unfair to resent it when he was not the only one in the room who had lost a home and his loss had been the result of his choices alone. He exhaled through his nose.

“No,” he said, voice quiet. “It does not.”

“I’m sorry,” Barnes said. He sounded sincere. Loki twisted his face into a smile.

“No matter,” he said. “It is merely…a sudden change. A shock. The feeling will pass shortly. Have we not spoken enough of _me,_ however?”

“Your life sounds more thrilling than mine,” Barnes said. “Not that I’m jealous. But we can talk about something else. If you want.”

“I would appreciate it,” Loki said. His smile felt tight and strained, but Barnes did not call him on it. Loki was grateful, perhaps foolishly.

“Just…one more thing,” Barnes said, looking down at his lap, fingers tapping on his leg. “I know it’s…you know. It sucks. When it feels like everything you knew is gone. But it’s not…total, right? There’s still…you can rebuild.”

_Can I?_ Loki thought, but he had to wonder if Barnes wasn’t speaking for himself as well. Perhaps _he_ needed to believe it. “Mm,” he said simply, and tried to adjust his smile into something less false. “Do not become sentimental, Barnes. I could not abide it.”

“Yeah, well,” Barnes said, smiling a little crookedly, “I’ll try to stop myself.”

* * *

There was an itch in Loki’s bones – a familiar restlessness. Usually he was able to ignore it; now, trying made him feel as though the walls were closing in around him and even throwing the windows open wide did not ease the feeling. Steve was running errands and a part of Loki wanted to call him back, not sure if he wanted to fight or fuck. Perhaps both.

He could ask Thor to spar, perhaps, but the idea of goading Thor into the kind of anger Loki wanted pushed a little too close to truth, and right now Loki was not certain he wanted truth. He paced, scratching absently at the underside of his forearm until he raised red welts with his nails.

A quiet tap at the door brought him out of his reverie. He strode over and opened it without considering that it had not been nearly long enough for Steve to finish his errands.

“Can I come in?” The spider asked. She was dressed casually, in loose fitting clothing, her hair curling softly around her jaw. Loki stared at her, very nearly shocked out of his mood.

“Certainly,” his mouth said, manners responding before he did. “What an unexpected…pleasure.” He could feel himself wind even tighter. Romanova had not come to visit him before and he did not know what to think of the fact that she was coming now.

“Thanks.” Romanova stepped inside. The glance she cast around his suite looked cursory, but Loki knew better than to assume she was absorbing any less information than he himself might have gleaned. He had to wonder what she saw. “Feeling a little warm?”

Loki opened his mouth to ask what she meant, and then noticed her nod toward the windows, still open. “Yes,” he said, not quite curtly. “Though of course if you are uncomfortable…”

“Nah.” The look she was giving him made Loki want to twitch. “It’s fine. These are nice rooms, but they can get a little stuffy.”

“Indeed.” He gestured toward the chairs, letting formality take over. “Would you care for any refreshment?”

“That’s fine.” She sauntered over and dropped into his favorite chair. Loki wondered if it was on purpose. “I just wanted to talk. We haven’t had a proper conversation since you started living here.”

“No,” Loki agreed warily, moving over toward the living room and taking a careful seat across from her. “We have not. I assumed such was your preference.”

“Such was.” She was looking at him again, even and direct. Loki wondered how he could ever have mistaken her for weak or vulnerable and knew it was only because she had wanted to be. “But since it looks like you’re going to be a permanent fixture…” She spread her hands. “Steve’s a good friend of mine. I thought it was time I paid you a visit.”

Loki felt his shoulders relax. So this was like Stark’s abortive threats, then. Another of Steve’s friends seeking to make sure he stayed in line. He summoned a smile, lazy and amused, and leaned back. “I assume you have warnings to offer, then? By all means. I’m listening.”

“Warnings? Oh, no.” Romanova smiled. “Steve’s a big boy and can take care of himself, and if I thought you were a threat I wouldn’t have agreed to your staying here in the first place.” That stung, though Loki tried not to show it. “I said I was here to _talk._ ” She leaned back, cocking her head to the side. “On Asgard…I kind of expected you to throw the trial. Steve thought you might.”

Loki tried not to let his expression twitch. “The Captain seems to believe I have no sense of self-preservation.”

“And do you?” Romanova sounded genuinely curious. Loki scoffed.

“What living thing does not?”

“A lot of them, actually.” Romanova crossed her legs and tapped her fingers on her top knee. “Especially if they think it’s the better option.”

Loki wanted to break eye contact, but he refused to be the first to do so. “Are you asking a question, Lady Romanova?”

“Romanov,” she corrected him. “I don’t use the full name anymore. I’d appreciate if you didn’t keep using it just to try to get to me. I think you get something about the importance of names.” Her eyes bored into his. “I’m not asking a question. Just making an observation.”

“An observation of what?”

“I think you know.” She smiled at him. “I changed my mind. I’ll take a glass of water, please.”

Loki took the out. He stood and paced over to the kitchen, filled a glass with filtered water and ice, and brought it back. She took it and sipped, looking at him through her eyelashes.

“What are you going to do now?” She asked. Loki raised his eyebrows.

“What do you mean?”

“What I asked,” she said. “What are you going to do? You’ve been in a holding pattern, more or less, since you started staying here. But long term – I don’t think bumming around playing house suits you very well.”

Loki flashed her a sharp edged grin. “I haven’t had much of a chance to ‘play house.’”

“Maybe not,” she said, not looking away. “But I think the point still stands.”

Loki let his smile shift toward something sardonic and dry. “Are you going to try to recruit me into your Avengers?”

Romanov laughed. “Hell, no. I’m just asking out of curiosity.” She uncrossed her legs and sucked in an ice cube, crunching down on it loudly. “And maybe a little bit of concern about what happens if you get bored.”

Loki considered her, wondering what the purpose behind this line of questioning might be. And there was a purpose – of that much he was certain. He simply could not quite pin down what it was. “Would it help if I assured you that none of my plans were of a nefarious nature?”

“It might if I was asking because I thought you were going to turn on us,” Romanov said. “I’m not.”

Loki stared at her, letting some of his surprise show. “What makes you so certain of that?”

“I’m not certain,” Romanov said calmly. “I’m not certain of anything. But I _did_ watch you turn yourself over to what I’m pretty sure you thought was certain death so that you wouldn’t drag Steve and Thor down with you.” Loki fought the urge to squirm. “I’m not making the mistake of thinking you’re a _good person,_ whatever the hell that means. But you have attachments here, and that matters more. Especially since Odin threw you out of Asgard with nothing else.” Loki’s stomach knotted and one of his hands clenched on his thigh. He wanted to snarl at her, to _rage._ He held it back.

“An interesting hypothesis,” he said, forcing himself to keep his voice level. Romanov just looked at him a moment longer, and then nodded, something in her face relaxing.

“I’ve been there, you know,” she said, tone shifting to something softer. “Not having anything but yourself. That’s not where you are now.”

Loki raised his eyebrows. “I am not alone?” He said, voice heavy with mocking. Something roiled in his gut.

“No,” Romanov said, not rising to his bait. “You aren’t.” She leaned back, still watching him closely. Loki licked his lips nervously.

“Why did you go to Asgard?” He asked, almost without meaning to.

“To help,” Romanov said. She didn’t seem surprised by the question. Loki did not ask who she had been intending to help, or how.

“And if…” He paused, and then did break her gaze, unable to keep it when he asked the next question. “If the trial had gone otherwise and I had been slated for execution. What would you have done?” He had wondered what Steve and Thor intended to do. He was not foolish enough to think they had not made some sort of contingency plan, though he doubted it was one he would approve of. He had dreamed of them attempting a rescue while his head was on the block and watching Steve be cut down by the executioner’s axe, Thor restrained by a platoon of guards as he screamed.

“You mean, would I have gone along with it? Tried to make sure Steve and Thor didn’t try anything stupid?” Loki made himself nod. Romanov pursed her lips. “Maybe. Probably not.”

Loki blinked. “Why? You have no love for me. You would have to know it would be unwise for them to try, and doomed to failure.”

Romanov nodded. “You’re probably right. But on the other hand – Njord in power wouldn’t bode well for us, I have a feeling. And even if it hurt Thor politically, the personal devastation for him might well be worse. As for Steve…” Her gaze leveled on him. “He’s lost enough. Don’t you think?”

Loki’s mouth felt dry. “You must know,” he said, “as well as I do, that – death follows me. If it were to follow me to him-” His nails dug into his palms and he knew he should not be speaking this, not to this woman. He was as good as flaying himself raw and offering her a knife with his throat bared. “I meant it to end with me.”

“It never ends,” Romanov said. She rubbed her palms on her legs, one of the first nervous gestures he’d seen her betray. “I know that, and I think you do too. Your dying doesn’t actually solve a single problem, for Steve or anyone else.” The look she gave him made Loki want to curl into himself. “I hope you recognize that.”

Loki had to look away. He heard Romanov take a sip of her water, ice cubes clinking in the glass.

“You’re wrong about something else, too,” she said after a moment. “I may ‘have no love’ for you. But I don’t hate you, either. Not at this point.” Loki glanced back at her sharply and the corner of her mouth ticked up. “Oh, sure, I don’t like you and I don’t trust you. But I don’t hate you, either.”

Loki licked his lips again, knowing he shouldn’t say it but unable to help himself. “Not even on your hawk’s behalf?”

The stare Romanov leveled in his direction could have withered a tree. “Do you really want to bring him into this?” Loki looked away. “I didn’t think so.” She set the glass down with a loud clunk. “I’ve been wondering what your place would look like. For someone with your taste for grandeur, it’s pretty sparse in here.”

Loki said nothing, carefully holding his tongue. He did not trust himself to speak.

Romanov stood up. “The first place I stayed after I was recruited – I lived there for almost a year. Didn’t add a single personal touch. It let me pretend I was going somewhere else and wasn’t planning to stay. That I wasn’t putting down roots, that all of it was just temporary. Don’t want to get attached, after all – just when you decide something’s for keeps, that’s when it gets taken away from you.” Loki almost flinched. He wanted to dig his nails back into his forearm, retrace the welts that had faded, but he couldn’t, not with her here.

“Is there a point to this story,” he made himself say flatly, though he could hear the tremor in his voice. He was certain the spider did not miss it.

“Sometimes it’s the other way around,” Romanov said. “When you won’t let yourself hold onto something, it’s easier for it to get lost.” She was still looking at him. Loki did not look back at her, and did not respond. His breathing felt shallow and rapid.

“You do not understand,” he said.

“Maybe I do.”

There was a soft knock on the door and then it opened. “I’m back – Natasha?” Loki did not look toward Steve, stayed sitting stiffly with his fingers digging into his thigh.

“Hello, Steve.” Romanov sounded perfectly casual. Loki could almost feel Steve’s gaze move back and forth between the two of them.

“Natasha,” Steve said, sounding vaguely scolding, “you said you would tell me before-”

“We were just having a conversation,” Romanov interrupted. “Right, Loki?” Loki pulled himself back together and made himself stand and smile, though he still felt – raw, fragile.

“Of course,” he said, surprised by the calmness of his own voice. “And not even an unfriendly one, much to my surprise.” That was true, at least. He did not doubt Romanov knew what she was doing to him, but he did not think he was meant to be a cruelty, either. The pain was simply incidental.

Steve’s expression was profoundly suspicious, but his displeasure seemed directed mostly at Romanov. “Uh huh,” he said, after a moment, setting a bag down by his feet. “Well, I hope you had a good talk.” There was something decidedly pointed to his tone, but Romanov seemed more amused than offended.

“That’s my cue,” she said, and turned to Loki. “Think about it, all right? We’ll talk more later.” She offered a hand. After a moment, Loki took it, but instead of a shake bowed over it to kiss her knuckles lightly. Her eyebrows shot up, but she didn’t jerk away.

“I’m sure,” he said, with a thin smile. She shook her head and strode out. Steve caught her arm as she passed him.

“We’ll talk later,” Steve said. Romanov smiled at him.

“Sure will, Rogers. Don’t worry, I’m playing nice.” She tugged her arm gently away and exited, closing the door behind her. Steve frowned after her for a moment, then turned to Loki.

“Are you all right?”

“Do I look hurt?” Loki asked. If he had been restless before, now he felt…shaky. Unsteady. “I am fine, Captain.”

“You look…” Steve frowned, and walked over to him. “I don’t know. But you look like something’s upset you, maybe.”

“Not her,” Loki said honestly. “Or – it is not her fault.”

“Hm.” Steve did not sound wholly convinced, but he did not try to press the point. Loki could hear her words circling around in his head like predators closing on a wounded animal. He pressed into Steve’s body, trying not to shudder.

“Steve,” he said quietly, and broke off. _I want you to hurt me,_ he thought, but he could not ask that. Steve had made clear – that was not something he desired, and Loki was trying not to force Steve to be a weapon for Loki’s use. “Can you…I want you to take control. Of me. Just for a little while. It does not need to be sex, only…” He trailed off, shame swallowing his words. He wanted to claw open his skin and crawl out of it, to disappear.

“You want…” Steve sounded hesitant, and cleared his throat. Loki tried to pull away, but Steve’s arms slid around his waist and held him tightly. “I can…all right. I can do that.”

He sounded uncertain, but Loki felt himself sag with relief. It was better than nothing. _When you won’t let yourself hold onto something, it’s easier for it to get lost._

He would need to think. But right now, he did not want to think. He did not want anything but the faint smell of Steve’s sweat and body and the warmth of his nearness keeping Loki from flying apart.

* * *

Romanov’s words stuck in his mind.

Back when this had all begun, everything had been a matter of _when_ : when Loki left, when he tired of the game, when the fragile thing he was building fell apart in his hands. He had confined his thoughts to the present, not bothering to plan ahead for a future he truly believed he didn’t have. Gradually, so gradually he had hardly noticed it happening, _when_ had become _if –_ the outcome in doubt. If Steve left him, if he changed his mind, if any of the many things Loki feared came to pass. He had caught himself, then, making plans, acting as though it were anything less than perilous to reach for a tomorrow when there might well be no such thing.

He had tried to fight it, but not hard enough. Of course Asgard had never been open to him, not truly, but having that door closed with such finality crystallized Loki’s awareness that somehow Midgard had become a home. His home.

But looking at the suite, Loki could see that it was as Romanov had said. Sparsely decorated, a few personal touches here and there but not… _his._ He could change that, perhaps. Purchase a few things with his store of gold – or better, with Stark’s. Craft this place into a new sanctuary.

But it would never be _his,_ Loki thought. It would always have something of the gilded cage, no matter how comfortable he made it. He would always be aware that it belonged not to him but to Stark, that he was permitted to stay on sufferance. Even the choice of furniture – elegant but simple, plain to Loki’s eye – was a reminder that this place didn’t belong to him and never would.

It was a foolish idea and Loki knew it, but once it had occurred to him he couldn’t let it go, kept turning it over and over in his mind until it had grown into something fragile and beautiful that he feared to voice, because if he asked and it was impossible…

“What are you thinking about?” Steve murmured. His fingers were running through Loki’s hair, fingernails just scraping against his scalp as Loki leaned into his side. Loki hummed noncommittally.

“Nothing in particular.”

“I don’t believe you,” Steve said, though without any rancor. “Something’s been on your mind for days.” Loki could hear the concern in his voice. Still fretting over him. “Maybe I can help you think through…whatever it is.”

Loki’s first instinct was to refuse. Spoken, an idea became fragile, too easy to break. But sooner or later, if anything was to come of it at all… “I would like to move,” he said. Steve tensed.

“What?” Steve sounded faintly alarmed, and Loki wanted to pull away, regretting speaking.

“Not far,” he added, quickly. “At least – not necessarily. I do not mean…it is only that this place isn’t mine. It will never belong to me, and if I am to live on Midgard…” Loki trailed off, feeling hopelessly foolish. Why had he thought this was an acceptable thing to ask? He was not safe. Steve knew it as well as anyone else. He would not want to see Loki outside where he could be watched. Steve might love him but he was not such a fool to trust him. “No matter,” he said quickly, though something in him shriveled. “It was merely a thought.” He pulled away from Steve, or tried, but Steve pulled him back, turning to face him.

“No, hold on,” Steve said, frowning. “You’re just…you want a place of your own. Is that what you’re saying?”

Loki hesitated, then licked his lips and spoke very carefully. “Or perhaps…of our own. If you wished.” Steve stared at him and Loki looked quickly away. “Of course it is impossible. I am too dangerous to be permitted to-”

“How long have you been thinking about this?” Steve interrupted. Loki looked toward the windows, deliberately not at Steve.

“A week, perhaps,” he said after a moment. “It was an idle fancy, no more.”

“An idle…Loki,” Steve said, and the serious note in his voice got Loki’s attention, forced him to look back. “Are you just saying this because you think I want it?”

Loki blinked and shook his head vehemently. “No! I do not-” He cut off and looked away again, closing his eyes. “I want a place that is mine. Ours. Perhaps it is foolish and impossible, but…if I am to – to make a home, here, I need it to belong to me.”

“I can understand that,” Steve said quietly, after a moment.

“And I would want-” Loki almost choked on the words and made himself force them out. “I would want to share it with you. It would not…” He trailed off, feeling his ears warm. _It would not be home otherwise._ “But if you do not wish-”

“I _do_ wish,” Steve said, interrupting. “That sounds – I’d like that. A _lot._ ”

Loki looked back at him, knowing his expression was wary and not entirely certain how to smooth it. “But you sounded…”

“When you said you wanted to move,” Steve said in a rush, “I thought you might mean away from me. Alone, somewhere else – and it would be fine if you did! That would – I’d understand, but…” Steve trailed off.

“I don’t want that,” Loki said carefully.

“Good,” Steve said, and gave Loki a small smile. “If you wanted to move…it wouldn’t be impossible. You couldn’t get a place in your real name, I guess, but…I think we could figure a way around that.”

“And it would not be…” Loki searched for a way to ask delicately. “Frowned upon?”

Steve laughed a little ruefully. “With SHIELD out of the picture, who’s going to be frowning?” He leaned forward, eyes brightening a little. “We could look for a place in Brooklyn, if you wanted – it’s really different from it was when I was a kid, but I still kind of like the idea.”

“So you would not…be averse to the notion?” Loki asked. Steve shook his head and took Loki’s hands, giving him a little smile.

“No, I’m not. I’m…the opposite of averse. If it’s something you want…I want you to have something that’s yours. A proper home.”

The sheer fragility of the feeling blooming in Loki’s chest terrified him. It would be so easy for it to shatter. It might, at any moment. He was so far from whole, so far from _safe,_ an exile with no people. But perhaps he had a realm. Perhaps he had a place. _I am not alone._

“It is something I want,” he said, quietly, as though something might hear him and decide he had not earned even the right to desire.

“I’ll ask Pepper for advice on apartment hunting,” Steve said, and leaned in to kiss his temple, putting his arm back around Loki’s shoulder and pulling him into his side. “Somewhere near a park. With lots of bookshelves.”

Loki closed his eyes and imagined it. _If you won’t let yourself hold onto something…_

_I am going to hold on to this._

“A studio, perhaps,” he murmured. “For you to do your artwork.” He turned his face into Steve’s neck and mouthed at his pulse. “And of course a large bed.” He felt Steve twitch and could hear the smile in his voice.

“Very important,” he agreed. His hand slid down from Loki’s shoulders to his side, fingers resting on his ribs. “And it’ll be just ours.”

_Ours._ Loki let that word roll around in his mind, warm and reassuring.

“Loki?” The timbre of Steve’s voice shifted slightly, from warm and teasing to something a little more cautious. “How are you doing, really?”

Loki considered the question seriously. Not well – he could still feel the new edges, or perhaps old ones brought closer to the surface. He had new dreams now, of suffocating alone in Asgard’s dungeons, or watching Steve be executed in his place despite all his protests that it was he who was the monster, he who deserved to die. There was an ache in his heart of loss that he hated and would have wanted to deny because Asgard had never been his home (had been his only home).

But there was Thor and a fragile something perhaps beginning to mend. There was Bucky and a connection he would not call friendship. There was Steve.

“Not well yet,” Loki said, closing his eyes. “But I think perhaps I will be.”


End file.
